


Manners

by wanderingsmith



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Canon Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9129250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: For all that southern charm he lays on, Goodnight's introduction to Emma has not the slightest hint of seduction to it.  Rare enough to see even *today*.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em.

Watching this 'angel of death' turn from greeting Chisolm to facing her, Emma braced herself. He seemed nowhere near as rough as Vasquez, but she'd dealt with more than a few well-appearing men who'd turned out to be rude bastards.

"Enchanté, mon cher."

The words were as foreign as his chinese companion, but at least he took her offered hand decently.

"Your hands are cold, Emma. Are you nervous?" before she could find a reply to challenge the assertion, he added in a very soft voice, "Don't be. Goodnight's my name." And that was all. Kind eyes and a polite nod and then he moved away, leaving Emma watching him follow the other newcomer. 

Though a name hardly reassured her, the complete lack of any attempt at physical intimidation was pleasant. With the way he'd swaggered toward her, she'd expected the usual arrogant bluster. Those quiet, *distant*, eyes that seemed to ignore that she was a 'weak' female were an odd surprise. But pleasant.

\---

She remembered that day, and those feelings, when she walked with the preacher and a few men to go dig four graves, separate from those of the townfolks. Their own spot, watching over the prairie where they'd been free. 

She'd not had occasion to get to know their rescuers well, Goodnight almost as little as Billy. Faraday's bluster hadn't needed knowing, and Horne had actually been oddly friendly, in his quiet way, kind, but retiring. But the other two had always seemed to be together when they weren't working. Together and content to be. Even when she'd watched the seven together during their evenings, the two men always seemed to have their own pocket of space. Touching each other, but not the others; not anyone else. 

That gentleness Goodnight had shown her that first day had stayed, at least for her, and for the other women, and children; even for the men, when they didn't force him to bluster. Always, for Billy. A killer he might have been, but whatever the reason he'd taken that path, it wasn't cruelty, neither he nor his chinaman. Both lacked the harshness the others insisted on portraying.

It left her glad they'd gotten to die together. She didn't think Goodnight's eyes would have remained gentle, wherever he'd have ended up, if he hadn't returned to stand with his friend. And as for the man who'd stood with him so closely, well, she hadn't got to know Mr. Rocks. But anyone who was that loyal and kind, deserved to have his friend at his side on his last day. 

Once the graves were dug, she stopped Teddy's first grab, "No, Teddy, Billy first. Then Goodnight. Then Faraday, with Horne on the other edge." 

It was likely female foolishness to care how their empty bodies lay. But if she was wrong, it still did no harm for the two friends to face the next world side by side, nor for Billy and Horne to not be surrounded.

**Author's Note:**

> ...so is using 'mon cher' instead instead of 'ma chère' for a woman a cajun thing? or a blooper? 'cause srsly.. every time it makes me flinch....


End file.
